


You Chose Wrong

by JJLives



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Friendship/Love, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJLives/pseuds/JJLives
Summary: That look I gave you... I regret; and the choice you made as a result? God, Santana, you chose wrong.canon compliant
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	You Chose Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> little bit of angst, but we know our girls find each other again so it's not all sadness.

I've been selfish.

There hasn't been a single day in the past ten years that I can look back on and not see that: selfish at the age of eight when I let you take the blame for spilling the glue all over the classroom floor, selfish at ten when the first of your many detentions started, all because I would not stand up for myself against Sally Pratchet. I’d looked to you for help, crouched in the sand at the bottom of that yellow slide on the outskirts of the schoolyard. That look I gave you... I regret. With that look I asked you to choose between being someone you needed to be or being someone I needed you to be. And as you shoved Sally to the ground and raised your usual quiet voice in anger, I felt relieved; relieved that I didn't have to do it myself, relieved because me yelling wouldn't have had half the effect. Sally would’ve laughed at me, not looked at me with fear like she did to you. 

That look I gave you, I regret, and the choice you made as a result? God, Santana, you chose wrong.

Then when middle school cheerleading tryouts began and I begged you to try out with me because I couldn't -no not couldn't, I wouldn't- try out alone, and you said 'of course, Britt' like you’d been meaning to do it all along with or without me asking. I knew then that you were doing something you didn't want to do. Just the week before, we were sitting in your room: I was trying to paint my nails a bright purple without making a mess of it and failing horribly, you were laying back on your bed looking through a magazine. You had scoffed and threw the magazine down in front of me, a picture of a girl in a red, white and black cheerleading uniform covered the entire glossy page.  _ Another Success for Sue Silvester _ , was written in bold across the top.

'How ridiculous,' you’d said, disdain dripping from your tongue.

I looked at the smiling girl in the photo, young and happy. I didn't see anything ridiculous about it. I wanted to be like her. You must’ve seen this truth painted upon my face; you were always able to read me.

'They think jumping up and down, waving pom-poms, actually matters. That it means something, anything. Perfect cheerleaders, perfect bodies, perfect life.'

With anyone else I would smile and agree, because everyone always seemed so much smarter than me. But with you, I never had to agree on the sole fear of being rejected for my thoughts. 'It looks fun,' I stated simply.

'Britt,' you said, smiling at me. It was my smile, the one you only used with me, but it wasn't a pity smile that others usually saved for me, I got those a lot. It was a soft smile, one you used to let me know you were going to teach me something new, or help me understand. I always liked that smile, it meant I wasn't a lost cause, because you always knew how to make everything better, easier for me. 'They walk around school like they own it, like they're better than everyone else.' You thought with that I’d understand, but I hadn't.

'It says they won Nationals last year, doesn't that mean they  _ are _ better than everyone else?' I asked, still confused. I should’ve just agreed and dropped the subject before it got out of hand. You should’ve shook your head at me and laughed like others would have. You should’ve patted me on the head condescendingly and said I was right, but you would never treat me like that, and for that I’d always been grateful. 

So why was I so selfish?

'They're mean to everyone, just because they think that a damn trophy entitles them to bully others. They’re mean just because. They do it to make themselves feel better.' you tried again to explain, but I wasn't listening, or wasn't even trying to. I don't know anymore.

I remember everything about that day, because it haunts me: the way you looked at me, smiling, like I was all that mattered to you in the world; the way you were laying on your side facing me, the way your dark hair fell against the arm that propped your head up on the bed, every hole in your Alanis Morissette tee shirt you kept wearing three times a week because you couldn't bear to throw away your favorite shirt, the smell of your room, a mixture of your lavender lotion and raspberry shampoo. 

I hate myself for the next three words that left my mouth more than anything. If I could go back I would have never said them. If I could go back I'd do everything differently, but I can't and it's something I have to live with for the rest of my life, because I know what those three words did to you that day. I never fathomed that anything I said would be taken seriously, it never was, but I should have known what those words would do to you. You were the only one who ever took me seriously and I am so sorry for not realizing how my words and actions affected you over the last ten years, especially for that day.

'You're mean too.' God, I hate myself now. I didn't then. I didn't register then the look on your face, the hurt. I just smiled my goofy smile, because your actions towards others had been in my defense and I thought it was a private joke of ours. But it wasn't funny. I made you choose when we were ten, to be the caring, loving girl you were or the abrasive defensive girl others were scared to approach, all for my sake.

You smiled back and I was too concerned with my ruined nails to notice that it didn't reach your eyes. Then you got off the bed and sat directly in front of me, took my hands and spent the next twenty minutes redoing my nails, making them beautiful. Everything you touched turned to amazingness. I don't even care if that's a word or not because it's true.

And not a week later I asked you to choose again. You could’ve said no, could’ve left me to go to the tryouts on my own and began the journey back to the girl I met in grade school: the girl who everyone wanted to be friends with because they were genuinely nice, the girl who stuck up for everyone equally and not put others down to protect just one, the girl people weren't scared of, the real you. But maybe you couldn't, you should have, should have left me fend for myself among the catty, uncaring girls on the cheer squad, but you didn't. You linked pinkies with me for the first time and dragged me to the gym.

It became our thing, a private something that others thought was a habit between old friends: linked pinkies. It became a sign that we were best friends, it was ours. But linked pinkies is all we had for over three years, no more holding hands to classes or tickle fights in the hallways, no more two armed hugs or laughing for some stupid, random reason we couldn't remember later. Three years I lost my best friend, without even knowing it. I was blinded, by what? I'm still not sure, maybe it was the excitement of cheerleading? I was good at it, people didn't say 'good effort, Brittany' when I cheered. I was a dancer, I could move and showing a part of that in school, where I was labeled as dumb, made me feel like I was on top of the world. No matter how good I was, you were better. You didn't have the dance training that I had, but you worked harder than anyone else on the squad, even harder than me. You took classes with me sometimes in dance and then started gymnastics training. You were the perfect cheerleader and come our final year in middle school, you were rightfully given the title of Captain.

But I’d lost you and I’ll never understand how I couldn’t see it. You turned mean, to everyone, whether they were hurtful to me or not. You called them names and threatened them, even when they were nice to me. You never used to be like that. You would accept anyone that accepted me, only being nasty to those that didn't. Being a cheerleader changed you. Those three words, they changed you. You were mean, and if I, your most cherished friend believed it, it must be true. I was wrong and I didn't realize what I'd done. 

You changed for the worst and I was too fucking selfish to notice.

I know now what you did for us, for me. I had asked you to choose again and you had. You knew how the world worked better than me, and I’m sure you knew what we were long before it ever crossed my mind. Being  _ that _ at the bottom of the school would have been okay with you. You had already made it clear that no one was to bother us. Whenever we would get a little too close and touchy before cheerleading ruined it, you would glare at anyone who dared question it and they would be terrified into silence. You would’ve been happy to continue like that all the way to graduation, but for some unfathomable reason I needed more. Even you couldn't push your way to the top, dragging my blissfully stupid self along, and allow us to remain as close as we were. There would be questions, ones that glares could not make go away. So you turned cold, pulled away to make my dream of being that bubbly, happy National Champion Cheerleader come true. And you did it. I was the one who wanted on the team and you did the impossible and took me to the top, not caring how many pieces of yourself you left behind along the way. I never even batted an eye.

It wasn't until sophomore year that I began to piece this together. Sophomores at McKinley and we were on top again. How you managed the impossible, getting us to the top in only one short year, I’ll never know. Quinn was Head Cheerio, as nasty to others as you, yet you somehow managed to fit in right behind her, or beside her, wherever you needed to be. This led to me being left sometimes in the background of the both of you. I began to get jealous as you two bonded over the nasty comments you threw at the random losers. You laughed together, trying to outdo each other on the best insults. You whispered in her ear, leaning your body against hers, so close, and you’d both burst into a fit of giggles. It was only then that I realized I hadn't heard that in over a year. And when you grabbed her hand in yours and dragged her to Cheerios practice, leaving me alone in the hallway to make my own way there, my heart broke. You hadn't held my hand like that in three years. I didn't know why seeing you like that with her affected me the way it did. It wasn't as if you hadn't been intimate with anyone, guys were lined up for their chance with you, the both of us. We were Cheerios, we were popular, we were desirable, we had it all, all except each other. I tried after Cheerios practice that day to grab your hand like you had Quinn's but you pulled away and quickly linked our pinkies, all while looking around nervously.

It was then that I began to realize something was terribly wrong. I’d been in a haze following your lead for three years, not thinking or seeing what was happening. We had stayed close, I suppose. We had sleepovers, although instead of laying in the same bed as we had when younger we’d somehow ended up on the floor in separate sleeping bags. We still gossiped and spoke of things that bothered us, but the carefree way of being near each other was gone. You were keeping something from me, as soon as you rejected my hand I realized that, and it hurt, more than anything in the world. Knowing I had lost a part of you, of us, and was on my way to losing more scared me more than anything else ever had.

That fear made me do another selfish thing. The one selfish thing in our past that I cannot bring myself to regret, no matter how difficult it ended up making your life. Because, although I started it, I never once tried to lessen the burden on you. I don't think I could at that point anyway. I was the stupid girl who believed in Santa and unicorns, who thought their cat had joined a gang and couldn't quit the habit of smoking. I couldn't do anything to help you through it because I hadn't been paying attention the last three years. No one paid any attention to me, other than wanting me for my body, so the domino effect was your burden to bear, even though it was me that flicked that first tile.

Even so, I won’t allow myself to regret being selfish this once.

We were in your room, and again I will never forget a single moment of that night. Sleep overs had become scarce, parties were more the norm and afterwards if we happened to stay at one of our houses, passing out was preferable to talking, but I’d convinced you to do this, invited you over to my house and everything. You agreed to the sleep over but said it had to be at your house, knowing now you felt more in control there. You didn't expect it I don't think. I’d been more forward in the past month or so, trying to get back to the easy friendship we’d lost somewhere, still not having pieced together that it’d been me who caused the chasm between us. I still couldn't stand how close you allowed yourself to be with Quinn but not me.

Like I said, I don't think you expected it, for me to be so forward. I thought you were sleeping as we had both been silent, and I couldn't take it anymore, seeing you almost across the room from me. I got out of my own sleeping bag and traversed the chasm between us for the first time in years, slipping into the space behind you in your own bag. They were pretty big sleeping bags and neither of us were very big so it wasn't an uncomfortable fit.

You tensed, and that's when I knew you weren’t asleep. I paused halfway shimmied into the space behind you, waiting for you to say something or push me away. You remained silent, facing the wall, away from me and I knew you were continuing this illusion of sleep, I’d watched you sleep too many times to not know when you were pretending. I slipped the rest of the way in so I was level with you in the warmth. I hadn't planned any of this, I just needed to be closer to you, I needed you and I was being selfish again. However, I won't regret sliding my arm around your middle, bringing your body closer to mine. I can't find it in me to regret placing those kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulder and neck. When you flipped over to ask me something, probably what I was doing, I refuse to regret placing my lips on yours. I will never regret any of that because the feeling of you kissing me back was the best feeling I have ever felt and that night is the happiest moment of my life. So no, I can't regret any part of that night. 

I'll forever have all my other selfish actions to think over with regret, but not that one.

Unfortunately, it created more grief for you. It was hard enough on you to pretend to be the nasty head bitch of the school, Quinn being on her way out from the pregnancy, not to mention you had to step up the snarky remarks since we were balancing on a very thin line with Glee club and our popularity. Having a double life, one you couldn't share at school, or at home, made things that much worse. You only ever have done one thing that has hurt me over our entire ten years of friendship, all the way back to the glue incident that bonded us together. It was telling me 'it's just sex'. It wasn't to me, with every guy I’d been with it was just sex, but with you it never was. I didn't care at first, you were touching me and kissing me and we would have tickle fights again and you would smile at me like you used to, like I was all that mattered. And that was what mattered to me. I could care less if you could only allow yourself to be like this with me behind closed doors and that before leaving my house in the middle of the night you always had to whisper 'it's just sex', just so I'd not forget. It was enough for me.

Then Artie Abrams came. I’m still unsure how I let things get so out of hand. I was mad you wouldn't sing with me, I was still so nervous about that, dancing I knew I was awesome at but I was still self conscious about my voice. I wanted you there, needed you there to help me through it, like you had with cheerleading, but you refused and Artie was just there. It was always different with him. With the other guys, they’d never cared if it was just sex for me, because it was the same for them. With Artie, he made it clear that it meant something and it felt good to not have someone belittle an act that meant so much to me each time.

I couldn't stay away from you though. I knew it was cheating, no matter the clever excuse about plumbing you came up with. You didn't need it. I knew I was cheating and no amount of guilt could make me stop. No one had ever made me feel the way you did. No one had ever caused my heart to stop and stomach flutter all at the same time. No one could make me stop breathing for a full minute at the sound of their pleasure. No one could make me want them so desperately I'd beg. No one but you. I pretended to believe it wasn't cheating though, for your sake. You seemed to want to ease my guilt so I agreed for your benefit.

I don't know why I kept doing it, knowing what I felt for you and knowing that even though you couldn't say it, you felt the same way. I don't know why I pushed you to admit your feelings. I don't know why, after you finally did, that I rejected you.

Selfishness will always be my excuse. I selfishly wanted you to admit I was more to you than a physical body. I selfishly needed you to say those words to me.

'I love you.' 

God, nothing has ever felt so good as when you said those three words to me, but I had been given victory after victory in the ‘us’ department that I had to push it. I didn't care what it would do to you, I never thought, and I can't believe how stupid I really was then. The only times I have ever allowed myself to feel stupid was when I look back on my actions, even if you’ll never say it. I was stupid and you were too good to me to ever let me see it. I wanted that girl back, the one who was my best friend, before I called her mean, before I turned her into the girls she hated. I wanted her back, not just some of the time, but all of the time.

I wanted so much and I thought making you wait would cause you to, I don't know, cause you to miraculously drop the act you’d perfected for four years? It didn't work though, you didn't show up to glee with a smile on your face. In fact, you never smiled after that. I would turn to you in class when something funny would happen and give you our secret smile, but you would just stare at my hand linked with Artie's and look away. It hurt me and I started hating you for making me feel that way. I hated you for loving me so much it hurt to see me with someone else. How screwed up does someone have to be to hate someone for loving them?

Still I loved you and I worried about you. My plan didn't even make sense to me anymore. I was content with Artie, but he didn't get any of my jokes and Lord Tubbington didn't like him. I missed you and I started wondering why I ever rejected you. Then he said them, he said the words you would never say to me, the words you would never let me believe. He called me stupid.

And again, I ran to you to make it all better, not at all thinking of the hurt and sadness I’d inflicted on you for months. I needed you so I ran to you, and you took me into your arms willingly, forgiving me instantly. How are you so perfect? I had left you to fend for yourself, struggling with your sexuality, hiding behind another mask and no matter the little things I tried to do to help you, they were never enough. They will never be enough because you deserve so much more.

I tried pushing you again, wanting all of you. Wanting to hold your hand and give you hugs and kiss you, at home, and in school, I wanted it all and I did it again. Not thinking, I pushed you to out yourself and blamed you when you pulled away, not ready. You’d built this persona, Head Bitch in Charge, you and Quinn called her. You made her, you chose to be her, to make my dreams come true and to protect me from the hurtful actions of others and you’d been her so long you couldn't figure out how to reverse it, how to become you again.

Senior year... wow, when I think about it, just wow. It was everything I could have dreamed. It started out rough, but it was worth hiding half the year when I think of the other half. I got my wish, you were mine, all the time. You were still snappy towards others, a little defensive but you were coming back to me. You were opening up to the others in glee more and more. and I can't think back to that year and not feel proud of you. 

The blissful bubble I was in made me forget again, forget that I wasn't supposed to be selfish anymore. 

Everything was perfect, except my grades. I didn't think it was a big deal. So I would get to stay in glee one more year, maybe help them go to Nationals again. I didn't think of what it would do to you to leave me behind. 

Selfish. 

I selfishly spoke to Sue about getting you a scholarship, never telling you that at this point I’d already known I was being held back. I thought through my happy bubble that if I kept you at a close college that my magic world that past year could continue. Graduating high school meant you had to grow up and I wasn't ready, so I made the decision to put your life on hold until I was.

So fucking selfish.

You weren't happy, even through Skype I could see that. You never wanted to be a cheerleader, you’d only become one for my sake and I went and shoved a full ride scholarship in your face, with the stipulation you had to remain what you hated.

I understood when you broke things off; you were doing the right thing. To this day I won't know if the right thing was for me or for yourself. But being who you are, I have a feeling I know who it was for. Everything you have ever done, everything you have become has been for me, and I selfishly let you do it, everything, because it made me happy.

I'm done. I'm tired: tired of trying to figure out which selfish act of mine caused the most pain to you, to us; tired of pretending that you doing everything to make me happy doesn't kill you a little in some way each time. I took the most perfect girl in history and made her something she hated. I love you, all of you, but how can I continue to tell myself this if I continue to let you hurt yourself for my benefit.

You've done so much for me, it's time I started repaying the debt. I love you, so much.

That's why as we stand here on this stage, in the auditorium where so many of my best memories live, and you ask me to leave him, leave him and come back to you, I say no. I say no because if I say yes it will be the absolute worst, selfish thing I could ever do to you. It hurts me so much to see that look in your eyes, the look thinking I'm choosing another over you again. All I want to do is grab you and kiss you and tell you how much I love you. I want to leave him. I want you back. I need you. But you don't need me. At least, not in the way you think you do.

You need me to be the strong one, need me to be the one to make the hard decisions. I got held behind because I wasn't ready to grow up, now here I am doing the most grown up, selfless thing I have ever done. It kills me and I'm sure I’ll be spending the next couple weeks crying when no one is around, but this is for you. This is how I get my wish; this is how I get that perfect girl back. 

I have to set her free.

I send you off to New York, where you belong. I know you’ll be safe with Rachel and Kurt, I know because I'll call them as soon as I leave here and make sure they know what to do and you'll be fine. You'll find yourself again, without me there to distract you from yourself. You'll become who you were always meant to be, and I’m positive it won't take you long.

Then when I know you're back, and whole again, I'll come find you. We can be together like we were always supposed to be: without my selfishness getting in the way, without you having to choose the wrong path, without either of us having to pretend to be something we're not.

I love you, so I'm making the right decision for you.


End file.
